One Sentimental Moment In Your Arms
by TheRangress
Summary: It's a perfectly normal day for Jack and Ianto. Except that it's the anniversary of their first date, and Jack Harkness never forgets an anniversary.


It wasn't an especially outstanding day in any way. Tosh and Owen weren't there, which was difficult. The Rift washed up a pair of boots, which was odd. And when Gwen went home, Jack ordered Chinese, which was very nice. He and Ianto sat on the couch, half-snuggling and eating Chinese.

"By the way," Jack said, a piece of chicken on his fork. He was looking off into the distance. A bad sign. "Happy anniversary."

"Happy... _oh_." Ianto mentally counted back. First date, May. This was May. It had been a year.

"I mean, if you think we need an anniversary or anything. I mean, it's not like we're _married_..." Jack kept looking away, wrapping his hand around Ianto's lower arm.

"Well, it _is _technically our anniversary regardless."

Jack finally met Ianto's eyes and smiled. "Very true."

"So." Ianto leaned in and kissed Jack. "Happy anniversary."

The conversation wandered off from there, to mundane things like whether or not Jack was a blanket hog and where the fortune cookies were.

(They turned out to be exactly where they ought to. Jack's was "Life is short" and Ianto's was "The world's always ending". This, Ianto commented, was probably the sign of some approaching alien threat similar to the way Jack had described Bad Wolf.)

"You know," Ianto commented, throwing away the containers, "you'd think I'd be the one to remember our anniversary."

"I always remember," Jack said. He looked off into space again. "November 24, Catherine Rogers— or April 12, for the wedding. January 14 for Estelle Cole, August 7 for Greg Bishop, August 27 for Lucia Moretti..." Jack trailed off as Ianto sat down and leaned his head on Jack's shoulder. "That's just the start. I can't forget. I can't let myself forget." He stared off into the distance in that way he had, when it was clear he was looking at the past.

Ianto pulled him closer. "I can't remember," he said, absently and concerned.

"Lisa?" Jack pressed Ianto's head into his shoulder.

"It was a Thursday... Winter. She hit me with her scarf. Winter." He half-smiled. "But I can't remember the day. I really... can't."

"Remember her face?"

"It looked like I felt." He couldn't help smiling remembering it, and Jack couldn't help smiling looking at him.

"I know what you mean."

"You'd think I'd know anniversaries, wouldn't you? I know everything." Ianto pulled away and buried his face in his hands. "But not this."

Jack put an arm around Ianto's shoulders. "That doesn't matters. What matters is _her face_. You don't let it go. That's what you remember an anniversary for. To see that face."

They were the words of a man who had too many faces he saw only in his memories, who was looking at one he was memorizing so he could never forget. Ianto couldn't think of any words that were valuable enough to say, so he gave Jack a kiss instead.

It dawned on him that in a hundred years, on May 11 2108, Jack would be remembering his face after Ianto himself was long gone. It hit him like a ton of bricks.

That someday, he would be gone, just like Lisa. And Jack would be in pain— even more pain, rather.

He could die tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, or even— though it wasn't likely— in fifty years. But no matter what, he'd leave Jack behind, and that just broke his heart.

_Life is short. The world's always ending_.

For tonight, this was life. For tomorrow or fifty years, this was the world. It was short, it would end.

"Jack?" he whispered.

"Yes?" They were close against each other, tangled together on the couch.

"You won't forget this." It was an order. 'This' was the good. 'This' was all the odds and ends of life that weren't painful because of them. 'This' was their first year, and the second and third and _fiftieth _years they had to pretend they'd have.

Jack smiled and kissed Ianto's forehead. "Not in a thousand years," he swore.

It was a quiet, emotional moment until Jack leaned up to kiss Ianto and knocked them both onto the floor.

For a moment, there was silence.

"Ow," Ianto said.

"You all right?"

"You _fell on me_."

Jack awkwardly got off of Ianto and whacked his head into the table. "Ow!"

"You all right?" Ianto sat up, rubbing the back of his head.

"Damn table..." Jack rubbed his head. He looked down to see blood on his fingers. No big deal for him, but... "_Ow_."

"We fight aliens for a living and get injured by _furniture_." Ianto made a face.

Jack smiled. "Maybe it's alien furniture."

"That wouldn't even shock me anymore."

"Would _anything _shock you anymore?" The idea of Ianto being shocked seemed uncharacteristic. Taken aback, possibly. But it was hard to think of a situation which he wouldn't simply comment on drily.

Ianto paused to consider. "Something happening with aliens that _doesn't _go badly."

"Very shocking," Jack agreed, "Your head OK?"

"My head is fine." He smiled. Sometimes, Jack could be almost overprotective. It was cute.

"Couch. Not a good idea." Jack grinned back.

"Bed seems better."

"Bed's _always _a better idea."

They grinned at each other like schoolboys.

"Race you," said Ianto. It was a silly thing to say, but he didn't mind being silly in front of Jack.

Jack won, but he cheated.


End file.
